Hammer up me some beer!

Who is the genius who came up with this invention? A hammer slash bottle opener. I was at Bauhaus the other day (the equivalent of Home Depot) and saw this tool.

I'm all for the 2-in-1 thing for efficiency (hey, it worked for the shampoo and conditioner industry), but construction and beer? Couldn't there be a potential problem here? Isn't this just a finger-slammin', pain-causing 'boo-boo' waiting happen?

Well, maybe they thought a few beers would help dull down the pain. In some bizarre way, that actually makes sense.

Would ya like some Hookah with that?

The other day I was at a hippie market, browsing around, minding my own business. When I came across this couple, smoking a hookah and playing Backgammon (a very popular game among the Turks - called 'tavla' in Turkish).

Aaah, tis da life, isn't it?

Carbaholics!

Turks must love carbs! In addition to the various breads and simits, another edible street phenomenon is the kumpir. It's basically a baked potato on acid. The baked potato is nothing new to our culture, but imagine ordering one on the street and eating it as you site see. Uhm, not so familiar...

When you order a kumpir, similar to ordering a sub sandwich, you select the ingredients you want to include inside this massive vegetable. You can load it with pickles, cabbage, radish, corn, peas, butter, cheese, carrots, sausage, mayo, ketchup, olives... you name it...

Last week, my parents and I ordered one... I tried to keep it healthy of course - stuck to carrots, cabbage, peas, etc... (no meat, no cheese).

Below is the product of our edible masterpiece:

Driving Under the Influence

Never drive while under the influence of this incredible city. With its spectacular views, your driving will certainly be impaired.

The last few days, I've been driving my parents around in the city. And lemme tell ya... NOTHING prepares you for Istanbul traffic. (Especially none of my years of Arizona driving).

I've decided there are 5 things you need to know (at least what I think you should know) in order to avoid death-by-car in this city:

1. Red means go... well, let's just say that you should already have left the intersection when the light has turned green.

2. Pedestrians *do not* have right of way. People should avoid you, not the other way around. If you slow down for these yayas (Turkish for pedestrian), you're bound to get honked at or perhaps even rear-ended.

3. Speed limits don't exist. Well, technically they do exist. But no one follows them. If a fast car approaches you from behind, it's best that you get out of their way.

4. Honking is the language of the road. Different honks (long, short, etc) mean different things. There's the "get out of my way (politely)" honk and the "get the f**k out of the way (not so politely) honk. Of course, the "Watch out, I'm in your blind spot" honk; the "Are you looking for a taxi?" honk... the "light's green-go you idiot tourist" honk; the "I'm trying to get your attention" honk... you name it, there's a honk for it.

5. Right of way rule - if a vehicle is bigger than you and can do more damage to your car in the event that you hit each other, then it has the right of way. Period. (So basically, the only power our rented sh**ty Ford has, at this point, is over squat tiny motorcycles).

Interesting vehicle observation: the driver's side rear-view mirror is a wide-angle lens, similar to the passenger side mirror. Everything is distorted and "objects may seem closer than they appear" - I wonder why this is. Although it's awkward for eyes to adjust from the rear-view mirror to the side mirror, it does eliminate that awful blind spot thing...

Quasi-Wedding Crashers!

I will probably never be able to crash a wedding in the same fashion as Vince Vaughn and Owen Wilson in the Wedding Crashers, but Friday night I found myself quasi-crashing a wedding I was unofficially invited to.

Let me 'splain. No there is too much - let me sum up.
My aunt was invited to the wedding reception for the daughter of an old elementary school friend (who she's known for over 40 years - can you believe that!?) Somehow my aunt managed to get my mom an invite (sisters have to do everything together, I guess). And since my mom didn't want to be third-wheel to my aunt/uncle, my dad was also was included on the guest list.

When they heard the bride was my age and the couple lived in the states, they assumed there would be guests from America and figured I might enjoy myself if I came. (Gee, how thoughtful - considering weddings tend to be quite awkward and uncomfortable when the only people you know are your parents, aunt/uncle). So despite my pleading and "Oh, don't even think about it" looks, I was thrown into the plans, too.

Of course this all had the potential of being somewhat bearable had I known of these plans much earlier in advance (I could have had time to warm up to the idea). This all went down Thursday morning, less than 24 hours before the reception which meant I also had no formal attire. (C'mon, I'm on vacation, here! I'm all about the flip flops, shorts, and tees!) So Thursday afternoon I scrambled around to buy a dress and put together a last minute outfit.

To make matters more interesting, my aunt/uncle didn't even show up at the wedding (due to circumstances 'out of their control')! So there I was on a Friday night, me at one table with some folks from Amsterdam (of all places), my parents on the other side of the room. I didn’t know anyone, nor speak any Dutch. Wearing a dress that looked more like something Sarah Jessica Parker could pull off in an episode of Sex and the City, wondering how I ended up here...

Given the variables of the evening, I did what any respectable unofficially invited guest would do...

A toast to the bride and groom - hoppa!

... I danced all night!

Supersized Baklava!

We've all heard of the famous Turkish delicacy, the baklava! (And for the record, it's a Turkish creation, not a Greek - in case there was any confusion on that...)

In America they supersize hamburger and fries. In Turkiye, they supersize the baklava. Except Turks call their supersized dessert the havuc baklava (which means 'carrot baklava') This translation has nothing to do with carrots, though. It acquired its name purely because it looks like a carrot.

At some point during my holiday, I had to cave and order one (which I shared with my dad). The baklava may not the healthiest thing on the menu (can't imagine how many calories a supersized one has), but at least the Turks know how to make it *sound* healthy.

That should count for something, right?

It Don't Mean a Thing If It Ain't Got that Swing!

I'm a huge fan of jazz; my mom, classical to the core. But despite our differences in musical preferences, from time-to-time we accompany each other on various concerts. Rarely do we find that our tastes overlap, but sometimes we'll share similar opinions after a show. Last week we both realized that neither of us really enjoy chamber music. :)

Last Tuesday evening at the Topkapi Palace, inside the Hagia Eirene Museum, we listed to a musical trio (piano, violin, violoncello) playing selections from Ravel, Schumman, and Shostakovich. Although we both didn't care much for their musical selection, the venue in which the concert was held, was pretty phenomenal!

We couldn't use cameras during the show (not that you would get much from watching it online), but I did capture footage quickly before showtime so you can see the great architecture of this place!



I would love to see Pink Martini play here... now that would be a concert worth attending!